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Orlok and the High Five
Orlok was shuffled into an extravagantly well-decorated office by the Exec from before along with an entourage of armed guards. He got a look at the tall and imposing desk, with a much shorter blonde man sat behind it smoking a cigar that probably cost more than his annual wage. "Ah, no need to look so nervous my friend. Gene Wilder, owner and operator of BastiaCorp. I understand you're the Blasting Tech that found this Magnusite deposit I'm hearing so much about." The now-named Gene raised an eyebrow at Orlok. "Ahem, yessir. While we were collapsing D Tunnel, over in Quarry 9. The cavern was messing with our sensors a bit. I did a more thorough scan and found the deposit." Gene nodded. "I see. Well, Mr... Orlok, was it? I'm in something of a bind. This is an extremely valuable find for us, the company, that is. I'm speaking with the board later today about ramping up our digging in this location. Hmm, it's ironic. Last year we were thinking about shutting this mine down. There's one small problem, of course. If the more powerful corporations get wind of this metaphorical goldmine of ours, " Gene gestured with his cigar outside the window of his office to Quarry 9 "Well, there'll be a few hostile takeovers in the future. So, tell me, would you be willing to sign a non-disclosure contract? I'd pay you handsomely." "Err... sure... It's not like I was planning on running topside and screaming 'Goldrush' sir.. Where do I sign?" Orlok asked. Gene chuckled, "Not that kind of contract, my boy. We've kept this information very quiet and you're the only person I've yet to keep quiet. If i say i'm tying up loose ends it sounds kind of crooked but I've only had to talk to your Exec supervisor and he agreed to a... paid incident of forgetfulness. I'm talking about something a bit more watertight. Your file says you prefer not to have any augments for cultural reasons and that's more than fine. I have a very experienced brain-pulse surgeon on standby. She'll... shall we say hypnotize you... Make sure you remember the information and keep all your faculties but leave you unable to communicate the company secrets." Orlok took a step back and noted the guards tense, "Uh, sir. I generally tend to like my brain the way it is. Not to mention the... side effects?" "Not to worry, my lad. The schizophrenia only takes hold when a shitty surgeon using shitty equipment is left to root around your brain. Hmm, I can see this doesn't appeal to you. Perhaps I'll... sweeten the deal. How's a promotion and a million credits sound? Believe me when i say i'll make that money back in no time." "A-million? Erm... Okay, that's more tempting. You'd not screw with anything other than the info about the deposit?" "Scouts honour." Orlok's mind buzzed. A million credits. And a promotion. That'd put him up as a foreman. Still, if he did that he'd not be able to blast rocks, only tell other people to blast rocks. Such could not stand. "I have a counter offer." "I love those. Shoot." "No promotion, three million credits, an generous early retirement package and a high five." Orlok said. Gene Wilder looked at him funny for a moment, "Planning on retiring? Strange? I'd heard you loved working here." "I do but if i get a promotion i can't blast rocks anymore. I like blowing things up. If i retire i can do that for fun, even." "Hmm, that's fair. One and a half million, a generous retirement package, a high five, and a beer." "Two million, a slightly less generous retiremnt package, a high five, a beer and a one percent share in the company." "Out of the question. If you want the share that's fine but you'd have to drop back down to a million, lose the high five and the package, and settle for half a beer." "You stingy bastard..." Orlok breathed. "Yup." "I want my fucking high five, though. Nine hundred thousand credits, a one percent share, an enthusiastic high five AND a bottle of fine wine... and your cigar." "My cigar?" "Yeah, that cigar you're smoking right now. Gimme." "Ermmm...." Gene make a sound of contemplation. "Come on, I'm going down a hundred thousand for a high five here." "But i really like my cigar.... Fine. Sold for nine hundred thousand, a one percent share, a very enthusiastic high five and a bottle of wine. Pleasure doing business with-" "The cigar, Mr Wilder." "... Fine, just take everything i own." Gene sighed and slapped Orlok's offered hand. "Mkay. Bring on the brain surgery and the hot nurses."